Eight Years Later
by Rezzed Out
Summary: Hermione, by her own choice, has left the wizarding world rather than marry because of some law. What happens when the Order finds a way for her to return? SSHG AU
1. Life After Her Choices

_I don't own._

_Thanks go out to my beta, Harmswife. With out her I'd have a permenantly OOC Snape..._

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**_Chapter One: Life After Her Choices_**

"Mona, you've got a table. D4, outside." Hermione Granger looked up from the bill that she had been ringing up in time to see Jami Whitehair hurry by with two large plates, brown eyes twinkling. "Four of them - Never seen a stranger looking group and the tall, goth guy with them is just plain creepy..."

"I'll be right out." She smiled, finishing up the ticket just as the couple it belonged to entered the small room that housed the register, remarking on how quaint the decor was.

"That'll be $68.49." Hermione waited patiently for the the undoubtedly southern gentleman to count out seventy dollars.

"Keep the change, sweetie." He drawled as his wife ushered him out of the restaurant.

"Thank you!" She called before pocketing the change they had left for her.

"A dollar and fifty-one cents? How _very_ generous of you, sir..." She muttered under her breath, hurrying through the break room to the kitchens, where she grabbed four glasses of ice water for the group at D4.

The hot Arizona air hit her in a whoosh as she stepped from the kitchen and into the small courtyard, making the ice water she was carrying twice as seem twice as tempting. She walked quickly, the table in question blocked by the large cottonwood tree that the small restaurant took its name from.

She moved around it, ducking under one of the lower branches. She put on a smile as she raised her head, only to have it slide right off again as her eyes landed on the corner table.

Or rather, the people sitting around it, people that she had never expected to see again, let alone sitting in courtyard of Arizona's own Cottonwood Steakhouse. Bright Orange waist-length hair marked the youngest of the group, Ginny Weasley - 'Make that Potter,' Hermione corrected herself with a bitter twist of her lips - who was smiling at something that Remus Lupin had said, his own hair streaked with grey. Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin sat across from him, eyes twinkling mischievously, her nose growing to a size that made the nose belonging to the black-clad man she sat next to look rather petite. Severus Snape was clearly not amused.

Hermione stepped forward, her eyes not believing what she saw.

"Miss Granger." Snape's greeting was filled with disdain. Lupin stood and took the glasses of water from her hands before they slipped from them completely.

"Hermione!" Ginny shrieked, moving in for a hug, which the other girl sidestepped easily. If Ginny was disappointed, she didn't show it. "Hermione, we've got some wonderful news!"

"Welcome to the Cottonwood Steakhouse. I'm _Mona_ and I'll be your waitress this evening."

"Hermione?" Lupin's brows furrowed together in question.

"You must have me confused with someone else." Hermione pulled the ticket book from her apron, her voice so cold that even Snape looked mildly impressed. "Now, what can I get you to drink?"

"Hermione, don't be that way!" Tonks frowned, her nose popping back to a much more reasonable size. "We've come to rescue you!"

Ginny giggled at that. "He's not exactly the stereotypical Knight in Shining Armor, is he?

"What? Wait, I don't have time for this. Go away." Hermione turned on her heel and hurried back into the kitchens. Hoping that her other tables would keep her busy enough to put off her return to the table outside. She walked into the main dining room to check on the tables that she had inside, only to find the customers at the register, a slightly frazzled Jami ringing them up. The tables were already being cleared by the acne-ridden busboy, Albert Yazzie.

Hermione groaned inwardly. There would be no avoiding D4 now, and the on-shift manager, Jean Ferras, wasn't the type of woman that appreciated table-switching. Not to mention the ear-full that she'd get if she completely ignored a group of customers, for that matter.

She sighed, resigning herself to the task at hand and began getting drinks for the small group of Order members that were waiting. Four boot-shaped novelty mugs came down from the stack and were filled with ice. Hermione lifted the first to the soda dispenser.

"The Order of the fucking Phoenix…" Her eyes closed for a moment and she lifted her hand to her forehead. She hadn't heard one peep from them in eight years. Not since she had made the choice to give up her place in the Wizarding World, rather than live in a forced sham of a wedding. Her friends had promised her that they would find some way to keep in contact with her, but this, eight long years later, this was the first contact she'd had with her previous life.

Hermione opened her eyes as the soda began to overflow onto her hands. She grabbed the red bandana that she kept in the back pocket of her jeans for just such occasions and wiped her hands and the sides of the plastic mug. She stuck the end of the cloth back into her pocket before absentmindedly readying the other drinks and heading back out into the heat.

The table fell silent as she approached, the lot of them looking rather shamefaced, with Snape, once again, the exception.

"Here are your drinks. A coke for you, this one's a root beer, seven-up and an orange soda for Snape, it looks like." She put a drink down in front of each of them before pulling out her ticket book again. "What'll it be?"

"Hermione, the Order has found-" Lupin began, only to be cut off by a very angry young waitress.

"Do not call me that. It's Mona, and the only order that I want to hear about is how you'd like your steak. "Hermione snapped. "What do you want to eat?"

"If that's what it takes…" Ginny mumbled, flipping the menu open and reading off the first thing she saw. "Then I'll have the 'Cowgirl', well done."

"Um, the 'Deputy' medium-rare." Tonks chimed in with her order, following Ginny's lead. "Remus'll have the T-Bone, very rare. Just let it look at the oven in fear and then bring it out to him."

"Please, spare me the werewolf jokes." Lupin said in mock-exasperation.

Hermione jotted down their orders with angry slashes, before turning her attention to Snape. "For you, _sir?_"

He shook his head, clearly wanting to stick with the steaming coffee mug he had transfigured his water glass into.

Hermione nodded before hurrying off to place their orders with the cook.

"What you got?" Hermione somehow managed a small smile for her coworker.

"One Twelve-ounce rib-eye, well, a New York, medium-rare, and a T-Bone, rare." Hermione handed him the ticket, which he looked over before handing it back to her. "And does that go out to Jami's table? I'll take it now."

Hermione grabbed the plate of aromatic, steaming ribs and went inside to deliver it, trying her best to ignore the fact that she would have to face them again.

"Here are your ribs, sir. I hope you enjoy them." She smiled, placing the food down in front of the only other customer in the restaurant before hurrying back to the kitchens to get bread and salads for her table.

"Hermione, please " Ginny's voice held the tiniest note of pleading as the waitress drew near the dreaded table once more, salads and crackers balanced precariously. "Listen to us."

"You have nothing to say that I want to hear." Hermione dropped the salads onto the table, not caring that at least one of them had tipped over. She turned to leave.

"Miss Granger, if you take one more step I'll hex you well into next Tuesday." Snape kept his voice low and dangerous.

Hermione stopped, hesitating. Snape wasn't the kind to make idle threats, she knew. She was also very aware that she would have no way to defend herself if he were to try something. Maybe that was why he was here. He was the only one that would actually dare hex her.

"Fine." She hissed, while grabbing a chair from another table and swinging it around so she could straddle it. "Talk."

"Well," Ginny began quietly. "Harry sends his -"

"Get to the point." Hermione cut her off. "Since I highly doubt that you've come all this way to exchange pleasantries with a mudblood."

"Hermione, you're not a mudblood." Lupin said softly.

"Aren't I?" Hermione made to stand, only to find that she couldn't. Snape's smirk grew as she realized that she had been glued to her chair. "What the - I don't believe this!"

"Hermione, please listen." Lupin leaned forward. "The Order has found a way to bring you back to the Wizarding world."

"It's Mona," she snapped back at him. "And I -"

Snape muttered something under his breath, effectively silencing the angry witch.

"Thank you, Severus." Lupin's voice lacked any hint of gratitude. "Now, Hermione - Mona - the Order has found a way to bring you back, as I said before. Harry needs your help to defeat Voldemort. We need your intelligence, Hermione. "

"Now, Minister Scrimgeour and the Wizengamot has given us permission to bring you back, but only if you -" Tonks stopped suddenly, leaving the sentence hanging unfinished.

"Marry a member of the Order." Ginny finished for her, suddenly very interested in her salad.

Hermione glared at them as if to say 'over my dead body', and if that message hadn't been clear enough, her rather eloquent use of her middle finger told them her exact thoughts on the matter.

"Normally we would give you the opportunity to choose - the Ministry would give you the opportunity to choose your husband." Lupin paused, eyes flicking to Snape for the tiniest of seconds. "However, the pickings have become much slimmer in the eight years that you have been absent and the Ministry is rather insistent that, in this particular instance, the choice belong to them."

"They wish for you to marry -"

"Mona, table A1 is all yours!" Jamie poked her head around the corner for a moment before ducking back into the kitchen.

Hermione felt the invisible bonds lift, and she stood, never more relieved to have a table ready to be waited upon.

"Snape," Tonks finished quickly. "They want you to marry Snape."

"I -" Hermione felt the bile rise in her throat as she looked at her prospective groom. The look he returned was a challenge. "I - I have to go."

"Hermione, please!" Lupin's voice followed her across the courtyard and into the kitchens.

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_Please R&R!_


	2. Picking Up the Pieces

_I don't own Harry Potter. If I did, the seventh book would have ended with Voldemort realizing that he was a terrible wizard and then he and Harry would skip off with Alive!Dumbledore and go eat ice cream and watch Unicorns dance. You should be glad I don't own Harry Potter._

_As one of my reviewers pointed out, this story has been reposted. It was under the same name but since the original came out in 2007 when I was just a wee lass, it needed a serious overhaul. This is that overhaul._

_I would be lost completely without my insanely wonderful and brilliant Jen. She's absolutely amazing._

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_**Chapter Two: Picking Up the Pieces**_

Hermione, frowning, stepped out of the restaurant. The coins in her pocket jingled merrily as she walked to her vehicle, a Ford pickup that was so rusty that she often wondered how it all managed to still hold together.

"Go home and get some rest, Mona." Jami called from across the parking lot. The younger girl revved her engine a few times before speeding out of the parking lot and down the street, gone before Hermione even had her keys out.

She lifted herself up into the truck, a feeling of unease settling over her.

"I'm not interested in coming back." She called out to the empty parking lot. The flickering of a street lamp nearby was her only answer.

The breeze picked up as she shut her door and made sure that it was securely locked before she started the car and began pulling away from the curb. The feeling of unease lifted as she left the parking lot and began the drive back to her small bungalow on the edge of the small town.

By the time she pulled up to the small brown house, she had convinced herself that it had merely been her imagination. Surely seeing the members of the Order had caused her paranoia.

Turning off the engine, Hermione rested her head on the steering wheel, more bothered than she would like to admit. She rested there a few minutes, trying to distract herself by creating a list of things that she needed to do in the morning.

Her mind returned to her earlier visitors. Their sudden appearance had caught her off guard and maybe she could have been more willing to at least listen to their insane ideas before telling them to shove off.

She sighed, opening the door and hopped out of her truck. The sound of ripping fabric filled the air as her jeans caught on the one of the rusty edges of her truck.

"This is not my day " Hermione grumbled, locking her truck. She walked up the stairs to the front door, pushed it open and then slammed it shut just as forcefully.

She frowned at the mess before her. She had started working a double shift at the steak house two weeks ago, which left her little time for cleaning. Her frown deepened as she found herself wishing that she could just wave her wand and be done with it.

"Not gonna happen though." She mumbled to herself, wandering upstairs to her bedroom. She slid her shoes off and grabbed a set of pajama bottoms out of her dresser drawer. Soft blue cotton replaced her torn denim though she didn't bother changing her top. In her opinion, the black t-shirt emblazoned with the steakhouse logo was infinitely more comfortable. It even smelled like the restaurant, a combination of steak, coffee and barbeque sauce. Hermione would miss the smells of the Navajo reservation entirely too much if she ever decided to leave - which, of course, was too ridiculous to even consider.

She grabbed a well-worn book from the night stand, glancing at the clock as she did. Large green numbers told her that it was a quarter to one. She rarely left the restaurant before midnight anymore, so she wasn't horribly surprised at the late hour. She bent down and grabbed a green box of Girl Scout cookies from the stash she kept hidden underneath her bed before heading downstairs again.

Her thoughts drifted towards the customers and, once again, to the group of former friends that had dropped in on her this afternoon. Her old anger flared again in her as she went into the kitchen to pour a glass of milk for herself. The Order had abandoned her for the better part of a decade, and then showed up out of nowhere announcing that she had to marry Snape.

Hermione tucked her book underneath her arm and grabbed the cookies and the milk before leaving the kitchen, intent upon curling up on her porch swing to read until daylight. The night's events had been too unsettling, she knew, for her to be able to get any sleep now. It wouldn't be the first time.

She opened the front door and turned on the porch light, the sudden light illuminating the black clad form of Severus Snape, whose hand was poised to knock.

She screamed and dropped the things she carried, the glass of milk shattering as it hit the ground and covered the book. Snape reached down and grabbed the book from where it fell.

Hermione watched silently as he held it up to read the title, the cover page depicting the famous image of Clark Gable as Rhett Butler and Vivien Leigh as Scarlet O'Hara. He smirked.

"_Gone With The Wind_, Miss Granger?" He was clearly amused. He touched the tip of his wand to it and the milk soaked pages dried instantly. She snatched the book away from him.

"If you've just come to criticize my taste in literature, Snape, you can go stuff yourself." Hermione snarked back at him as he vanished the mess of broken glass and milk.

"I would be more than happy to oblige, but there is something that we need to discuss."

"No, Professor." Hermione drew herself up to her full height of five-foot-two. She was disappointed to find that she was still at least a foot shorter than the wizard. "You're quite wrong - we have nothing to talk about."

"Do not be foolish, Granger." He said, grabbing her arm as she attempted to brush past him. "And do not make me hex you again. This time I am sure you will not find them to be as harmless as those used earlier."

"Bastard!" She yanked at her arm just as he released his grip on her. She landed on her bottom with a quiet thud and a not-so-quiet curse.

"We do have a few things to discuss, Granger." He sneered at her.

"I'm not going back to the magical world." Hermione scooted over to the edge of the porch and let her feet dangle. "And I'm not marrying you."

Snape muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'insufferable dunderhead.'

"And why -" Hermione paused to open the box of cookies. "- did the Ministry -"

"Miss Granger," He hissed, leaning against the wall. "As far as the reasoning for this marriage, it only concerns myself, and a few members of the -"

"That's bogus!" Hermione was on her feet in mere seconds. "Don't give me that crap. This doesn't concern me? If you think for one moment, I'll even consider marrying you without knowing those reasons, you've got another think coming!"

"Fine!" Snape snapped at her.

She raised an eyebrow, her expression full of distrust. She reached down and grabbed the container of cookies. She plopped down onto the porch swing. "Well, please enlighten me."

"Surely you don't think that I want this union?" Snape began quietly. "You are a former student of mine, Miss Granger, nearly twenty years my junior -"

"Such flattery..."

"But you are powerful. The Wizengamot agreed to release me back to the Order on two conditions."

"Release you back? But I thought –" Hermione interrupted, her confusion obvious. "When I left, you had been hiding. You were a fugitive."

"Yes, Miss Granger." His eye met hers for a moment. They were as cold and hard as she remembered them to be; Hermione shivered. "For seven years, I managed to stay safely in the Dark Lord's ranks. I was..."

Hermione didn't have to meet his eyes to know that he was calculating exactly how much of his story needed to be told in order for her to agree to return. She fiddled with the cellophane wrapper of the cookies.

"I was…_caught_… by the bumbling idiots at the Ministry." He continued slowly. "I was sentenced to life in Azkaban and for nearly six months, I was held there. The war ravaged on, and without the Order's precious spy… There was much damage done."

Silence fell between the pair.

"How do I fit in to this, Snape?" Hermione questioned in a whisper.

"Minerva petitioned for my release. At that point, the Ministry was willing to try anything that might help slow the ever-growing list of casualties."

"There were conditions to your release?" Hermione held out the roll of cookies towards him, which he declined with shake of his head. "And I was one of those conditions?"

"Yes. The first of those conditions was that I fall subject to the marriage law and the other was that I marry someone unquestionably good who could not be easily manipulated. Minerva and I insisted that my bride have prior knowledge of my position in the war." Snape paused as though uncertain how to proceed. "Miss Granger, I can assure you that there is no one else that would be a more suitable candidate. The only unmarried Order members are far past the eligibility dates or fresh, young dunderheads right out of Hogwarts that wouldn't stand a chance against me."

Hermione's eyes met his for a second before they returned to study the cookie box.

"And if I refuse," Hermione asked quietly, "you would be sent to Azkaban, I presume?"

"Yes, Miss Granger." Snape said. "And you and I both know that you won't let that happen, would you?"

"Yes, the old me, the one that founded SPEW and rescued poor old Crookshanks from the pet shop, who let her friends copy her homework would never sentence an innocent man to Azkaban." Hermione stood from the porch swing. "But you, Severus Snape, are not an innocent man."

"Miss Granger, did you leave your brain behind as well when you left the Wizarding World?" Snape returned to his sneers. "You do realize that if the Dark Lord wins, he will not be content with ruling over only Europe? And when he finds you, you will die a most agonizing death. He has been looking for you, you know."

"Me?" Hermione's head shot up and she returned his glare. "What've I got to do with it? One would think that he'd be glad I'm not helping Harry's efforts."

"You chose to leave and try to forget what you know, rather than marry, but that did not mean that the Wizarding World would forget about you. By leaving, you made yourself a sitting duck of a target. You were one of Potter's dearest friends, after all. One-third of the Golden Trio," again he sneered, "and you had outsmarted every Death Eater you encountered in battle. Not to mention that you were thumbing your nose at him by beating every single student at Hogwarts, and undermining his beliefs that Muggleborns are of lesser skill. Do you know what he'd give for such a magnificent piece of bait?"

An uneasy silence fell between them following the wizard's declaration and lasted several long moments.

"Tomorrow," Hermione spoke, breaking the silence. "I'll give my two weeks' notice."

Snape nodded slowly, reaching into his robes and withdrawing his wand. "I'll alert the Ministry."

He Disapparated, leaving Hermione to question her sanity in peace.

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_Chapter three will be posted soon, in the mean time, please R&R!_


	3. Return

_Good Morning, Fandom! I hope you've all had a decent week._

_As always, thanks go out to my wonderful beta, Harmswife. She's absolutely amazing._

_Of course, I don't own Harry Potter. Or Gone with the Wind or Phantom of the Opera. I totes own my ideas though, so don't you dare touch them, you hear?_

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**_Chapter Three: Return_**

The next morning was met with an exhausted and miserable Hermione, who, upon finishing Gone with the Wind and discarding Le Fantome De L'Opera in its original French, fifteen minutes later, had packed herself up and moved into her small living room, clearing a spot on the old, floral-patterned couch, praying fervently that things would look better in a few days' time.

They didn't; in truth, the more Hermione thought about becoming Snape's wife, the more disgusted she became. She had never met a more disagreeable man, in either the Muggle World, or the Wizarding one. Voldemort might have been an exception, if not for the fact that Hermione had never actually _met_ him.

By the first week's end, Hermione was grasping at straws, trying to come up with any other way that things might be done. The fact that the Order had assigned her two bodyguards, which, unfortunately and infuriatingly, came in the form of the Weasley Twins only added to her stress.

The pair had tried on various occasions to get her laughing again, making jokes about her unwanted fiancé every chance they could. They undoubtedly meant well, but Hermione didn't want to discuss the upcoming nuptials with anyone - especially if she could avoid it.

The second week passed much like the first, with the twins haunting corners of whichever building she was in at the moment, while she tried oh-so-desperately to find an upside –any upside would do, she wasn't about to be picky - to marrying Snape.

Hermione put off packing up until the day before the date that had been given on the letter the Ministry had sent her, packing only her best clothes, a small pile of books, and the small pile of gifts that her coworkers had given her at the surprise bridal shower they had thrown for her. She had the suspicion that Fred and George were behind it, though they had shoved all of the credit onto Jami's shoulders.

And to think that Hermione had been so careful not to let any of the news out, all too glad for the excuse not to wear the garish gold and ruby engagement ring that George had brought her from someone within the Order.

Hermione sighed, placing the last of the books in her trunk, and turned to the brightly wrapped packages. She had not dared stay at the bridal shower, escaping twenty minutes after it had begun, no matter how rude it was for her to leave the well-wishing co-workers.

"To Mona, Heart Jami." Hermione picked up one of the gifts, a small blue package and read the tag to herself before unwrapping it carefully. A small necklace box opened to reveal a stunning turquoise pendant on a silver chain.

"_Beautiful…_"Hermione whispered, awe clearly etched on her features as she ran one of her fingers over it, picking up the delicate chain and fastening it around her neck before she moved on to the next package.

A few boxes of Girl Scout Thin Mint Cookies from Jean and a set of various bath oils from one of the cooks were quick to join the books in her trunk. Another of the cooks had given her a History Channel special on DVD as well as a set of his-and-her bathrobes. Hermione felt a small smile tug at her lips at the thought of the greasy-haired bastard wearing the baby blue cotton robe. The smile disappeared almost immediately and she screwed her features up into what she hoped was a scowl to rival his.

She tossed the bath robes unceremoniously into the half-filled trunk and the DVDs onto the bed next to it, thoroughly fed up with the entire ordeal and almost physically sick with the feeling of deep hatred for the current Minister of Magic.

Hermione growled in annoyance and tossed the rest of the bright parcels into the remaining empty spaces, no longer in the mood to open presents. She looked around the room for anything else she might have missed. A bit of black cloth caught her eye from under the bed and she grabbed it up quickly. The image of a toddler holding its' blankie flashed in her mind as she clutched the t-shirt to herself, the scent of barbequed meat wafting up to her. A feeling of intense loneliness washed over her and she felt herself biting back tears.

Refusing to let herself cry, she folded the shirt and dropped it into the trunk, closing it just as Fred burst into the room, a wild, panicked grin on his face. "Hermione, are you ready to go?"

"George?" Hermione's eyes widened as he summoned her trunk to him. "What's going on?"

"George!" She frowned as a knot of dread curled in the bottom of her stomach and settled there. The air began to vibrate around her - wards were falling. Her bedroom window lit up suddenly with a half-dozen curses streaking through the night sky.

"Fred, we've got company!" George called as he all but flew up the stairs and into the room.

"They're here? Death Eaters? How did they find me?" Her voice was tinged with fear as the twin she had incorrectly guessed was George Disapparated with her trunk.

"My guess? We have a spy on our hands." George grunted, crossing to her and pulling her arm through his. Downstairs, the front door slammed open.

"Too late, Gents!" George cried moments before the air pressed in around the pair and they were met with the unpleasant feeling of apparation.

Seconds later, they arrived in a bright and cheery kitchen, one quite unfamiliar to Hermione. A pot of tea bubbled merrily only a few feet away.

"Hermione! Thank Merlin!" She was swept up into a hug, Mrs. Weasley's welcome likely the warmest Hermione had had in the entire eight years she had spent in exile. "George, what happened? You're early!"

"I'm Fred, Mum." He and Mrs. Weasley exchanged a look before he forced a smile and the feeling of dread in her stomach grew. In all his life, she knew, he had never had to force a smile. "If you'll excuse me, I need to get in touch with Kingsley immediately."

"I see you've pudged up a bit, my dear. Skinny never suited you -" Molly continued with her happy chatter, her voice not letting on any of the worry that was clear on her face. George turned to leave. Hermione grabbed his arm before he made it very far though.

"George, how did they find me? Did Snape tell? Whose wards were those?" He shrugged her arm off and when he turned back to her, his smile wasn't forced at all and he managed a good laugh.

"Mona, you'll have to ask someone else about those wards, they were in place for a while before we got there. Just take it easy for the rest of the day. Knowing mum, she'll insist on coddling you until the git comes to claim you tomorrow. Don't worry, you're safe here." He smiled at her again, and Hermione knew that she wouldn't find her answers there. "Fred is in the guest room then, Mum?"

"Yes, dear," Mrs. Weasley said jovially before diving back into the one-sided conversation she'd been having over how lovely Hermione looked. "- years in with the Muggles have done you very good, my dear! Such a lovely tan! I don't suppose you'll be able -"

Hermione was pushed into a seat and given a cup of tea, while Mrs. Weasley continued on about how good it was to see her.

"Hermione!" Harry was all smiles as he entered the kitchen, pulling her back out of the chair and into a fierce hug. "Merlin's knees, it's great to see you again."

"Mona." Hermione pulled herself away from him. His smile vanished, replaced by an expression of confusion mixed with a fair bit of hurt. "I go by Mona now."

"Oh." His smile was back within seconds. "They told me and Ron that you were coming back today. Ron can't wait to see you. He's still in love with you after all these years, even after he married his Penny – rest her soul. I told you that we'd get you back here without a pesky groom getting in the way of things – admittedly, I'm not sure how they did it. The Ministry has been absolutely stone-fisted with this marriage law business, as – Hermione, what's wrong?"

Hermione's eyes had widened and then narrowed, her hands clenching together down at her sides, and had anyone bothered to look, they would have noticed that her knuckles were white, a sharp contrast to the tan that she had gotten while living in the Arizona heat for _eight damn years._

"Without a _pesky_ groom getting in the way?" Hermione's voice started as a hiss, growing in volume with every syllable she uttered. She laughed humorlessly, the noise bouncing off the walls of the pristine white kitchen. "You have no idea what kind of a life I've been condemned to, have you?"

"Hermione, calm down, please, dearie." Mrs. Weasley cut in, only to have Hermione turn on her in an angry huff.

"Dammit, I told you it's Mona now." Hermione snarled, white hot rage bubbling through her veins as she turned back to Harry. "I'm being forced to marry -"

"What's all the yelling abou-" A sleepy-eyed Ron Weasley stopped frozen in the door and Hermione's eyes raked over his face, littered with battle wounds. Her eyes met his and he rushed forward, enveloping her in a warm, enthusiastic hug. "Hermione!"

"Ron…" Hermione tensed, but before she could shake him off, they suddenly found themselves at opposite ends of the room, Severus Snape standing between them, his wand drawn and pointed squarely at Ron's chest.

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_Please R&R!_


	4. Not The Perfect Welcome Back

_This chapter would not be possible at all without my amazing beta of nearly five years, Harmswife. Go, read her stories. She'll be updating them soon._

_Alas, not mine._

_Here's the next addition, and, once again, thanks to Harmswife. /gives beta a cookie/_

_I'm sorry about the wait for this. Tuesday might have to become my new update day. Real life just gets in the way..._

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_**Chapter Four: Not The Perfect Welcome Back**_

Several long moments passed, the rage in Hermione bubbling up again like too many ingredients in too small a cauldron. She opened her mouth to protest, but a gravelly voice spoke first from the doorway.

"Snape, let the boy be." Hermione's eyes flicked away from the two men in front of her and settled on the speaker. Mad-Eye Moody stood in the doorway, magical eye roaming over the kitchen and landing on her. Even though she had seen him a million times before, she was still shocked at the sight of the wizard. Several new scars had been added to the impressive collection on his face, she noticed, and from what she could tell, his left ear had been completely lost.

"I will not allow this _baboon_ to _grope_my –" His voice held a sort of glee, his face twisted into a wicked grin. It was like he had carelessly added worms' blood to the potion that had been brewing inside Hermione. Something inside of her snapped.

"Severus Snape, how dare you?" Hermione narrowed her eyes at the black-clad wizard in front of her. "I might be your fiancée, but that does not give you the right to butt in like that."

"Fiancée?" Harry repeated incredulously.

"Have you gone mad, Hermione?" Ron chimed in. "There's no way our Hermione - " His ranting ended with a squeak as Snape stepped closer, his wand now pressed to the younger man's chest.

"She is _not_ your Hermione."

"Had I had any time to respond you would have seen me push him away myself, you asshole." Hermione snarled. A short gasp of surprise came from Harry as the lenses cracked in his glasses and he removed them quickly. "Is this how it is to be for the rest of my life? Living under your thumb?

"Shall I let myself become one of the cuckolded masses then?" Snape lowered his wand and sneered over his shoulder at her.

"You should be more concerned about whether I'll still be here in the morning." Hermione retorted, her hair beginning to crackle. "I could just disappear again, you know."

"I will track you down, Miss Granger." Snape turned to her, wand raised once again. "And drag you back here by your unruly mop of frizz if I have to. _Expiscor!_"

Hermione's eyes widened as she was hit by a dark blue stream of light from the end of Snape's wand. Snape watched smugly as the spell hit its intended target and waited, wand ever at the ready, for her response.

"She won't like that." Moody said quietly from his position from the door, keeping his eyes on the young witch as she slid down to her knees, her eyes still wide. Five pairs of eyes watched in silence as her head fell back and a long, anguished scream was ripped from her throat.

"What did you do to her, Snape?" Ron demanded as he reached for his own wand. The candles in the room began to flicker madly and Harry's glasses shattered in his hand.

Snape's smug look was replaced momentarily by one of shock before being replaced his customary sneer. "It was merely a tracking charm, Potter."

Hermione's shrieks grew in volume as she further curled into herself. Ron took a small step towards her. "Hermione?"

"Ronald!" Mrs. Weasley grabbed his arm and yanked him out of the way as the nearby teapot launched itself at his head. The cupboard doors began to rattle and the dishes clattered menacingly behind them.

"Molly, get the boys out of here." Moody snapped as his magical eye began to spin even more wildly. "You get out of here too, Snape."

Snape looked between Moody and Hermione and seemed to hesitate. Moody growled at him, and then Hermione raised her head to pierce Snape with a glare. Snape cast a quick shield to deflect the chair that was sent hurtling at his head. Snape narrowed his eyes before backing out of the room, never turning his back to the witch.

Moody moved quickly once the group was gone, crossing to Hermione, whose fingers were clenched, arms crossed with fists pressed tightly to her breasts. The sheer volume of terror emitting from the young woman was horrific to listen to, and no doubt the rest of the flat could hear.

"Mona, you know how to control yourself." Moody growled. "So do it." He raised a shield over the two of them just as her volume reached its peak. There was a terrific crash as glass and porcelain exploded and the candles went out. Moody waved his wand to relight the candles as silence finally filled the space, and the light revealed a slumped and unconscious witch.

"Molly," he called out, knowing she hadn't gone far. As she entered cautiously, and looked around, her eyes fell upon the young woman who had caused so much damage.

"Poor girl," she tsked as she used her wand to levitate the girl down the hall and into the guest room with her things.

* * *

A burning in her throat was the first thing that Hermione noticed as she slowly regained consciousness. She snapped her eyes open and jerked into a sitting position. Someone had tucked her very neatly into the bed that she was on, even going so far as to take off her shoes, she noted. A quick survey of the room through bleary, tired eyes found her trunk tucked into the far corner of the room and her shoes resting by the door.

Hermione shoved the bedding aside and stood, her bladder making its needs known. She quickly crossed to the door and pulled it open. Hermione ducked out of the way as the Weasley twin that had been leaning against it fell backwards into the room with a thud. He popped back up again seconds later, a wide grin on his face.

"Geesh, Mona, give a guy some warning!"

"That's what you get for leaning on a door, you barmpot!" Ron grumbled from where he stood in the corridor.

"What are you two doing here?" Hermione asked, her hands going to her hips. "Standing right outside my door like that, I've gotta say, is really kinda creepy."

"I was just trying to check on you, Herm - Mona." Ron said, his ears going red. "You really seemed like you were off your trolley in the kitchen. That plonker is the one being strange and waiting outside your door."

"My dear younger brother, you forget. I am the lady's guard." The twin, which Hermione guessed was Fred this time, grabbed her hand and bowed over it. "Besides, can you imagine what Snape would do to us if we let you talk her out of it?"

"You pillock!" Ron snarled, his fists clenched at his side.

"Shut up, both of you!" Hermione snapped, cutting off Ron's rant before it could properly begin. "Fred, where is the bathroom?"

Fred pointed her down the hall and Hermione went to relieve herself.

When she opened the door and entered the hallway again, Fred and Ron had been joined by both Harry and George. Ron was purple-faced with rage and Harry was glaring at the twins, who were leaning against each other and inspecting their fingernails for dirt.

"Hermione, we just want to talk to you." Harry pleaded as she emerged from the loo.

"Not Hermione," Fred taunted him.

"It's Mona," George finished.

"You aren't really going through with it, are you, Mona? Marrying Snape?" Ron cut in. "Harry and I can hide you, if you want."

"I am going to marry _Severus_, Ronald." Hermione said, emphasizing her fiancé's name to make the younger wizard squirm. "I doubt that I'll be happy, but this is war and there are sacrifices that must be made. I doubt that I'll be any use if I'm kept hidden away, anyways."

"You heard the lady." The twins said in unison.

"Mona, there has to be a way..." Harry said as he ran a hand through his hair. "I mean, you make it all sound so final. You aren't married yet."

"Blimey, Mona, I'll even marry you!" Ron offered eagerly.

"Don't be daft, Ronikins." George laughed.

"Mona'd never let a man like Snape wind up rotting in Azkaban," said Fred. "She might need her head examined, but she can see a little bit of good in that big ball of scum."

"Fred, stop it." Hermione snapped.

"It is final then?"

"Yes, it is final, Harry." Hermione sighed, her shoulders slumped in resignation. "I've looked for loop-holes - there aren't any. I'm going to be Mrs. Severus Snape."

* * *

_Please review!_


	5. Is It Too Much?

_Characters = Not mine._

_Thanks for the reviews, everyone. I appreciate them. Also, my beta is amazing! *hands her alcoholic beverage of choice*_

* * *

**_Chapter Five: Is It Too Much?_**

"Come now, Miss Granger!" The small group in the corridor turned to greet the newcomer. Minerva McGonagall smiled fondly at the younger witch. "This is your wedding, not your funeral!"

"I'd imagine that marrying the great black bat of the dungeon would be quite a bit like death though, wouldn't you agree, Forge?" Fred asked his twin, their identical grins growing wider by the second.

"I disagree, Gred." George said, pausing to let the others wonder where this was going. "Death would be more agreeable, by far."

"Shall we list the reasons why?"

"Well, I don't see why not."

"Misters Weasley, I seem to recall finding your kitchen a complete disaster area when I arrived to welcome Miss Granger." McGonagall said pointedly. "It really would be a shame if that were to happen again, here in the corridor, now wouldn't it?"

"Oh, she's got an excellent point." Fred chuckled as George went pale. "And your Angelina's temper can be beastly..."

"It's almost as bad as Mona's." George agreed. He turned to the others. "Come on, you two. Let's let McGonagall have her."

"But we haven't convinced her not to marry that- Ow! What was that for, you wanker?" Ron was cut off by a swift elbow to the side as the twins ushered them into a room further down the hall. Hermione was able to make out the bright, cheery kitchen before the door swung shut.

"Miss Granger?" Hermione's attention focused once more on the older witch. "There are some things that I'd like to discuss with you."

McGonagall stepped to the side of the doorway behind her and indicated that she should enter the room beyond.

Several couches and wingback chairs lined the walls of the large rectangular room and the majority of the wall space was covered with multi-handed clocks. A large circular table sat in the middle with several chairs huddled around it. Various books and scrolls littered the surface.

"Welcome to the new headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, Mona." A smiling Kingsley Shacklebolt rose from his place at the table. With a wave of his wand, two more of the chairs at the table pulled out. He gestured for the two women to sit. "It is good to see you safely returned."

"If the twins are to be believed, that almost wasn't the case." Minerva remarked as the women joined the auror at the table. "There were wards set around the property. Severus mentioned them to us the first night that we made contact."

"Severus didn't set the wards that fell?" Hermione's eyes went wide and a note of alarm crept into her voice. "Surely you don't think that I set them! I can't do wandless magic and the Ministry snapped my wand when I was banished!"

"Severus didn't recognize the spellcasters' signature." Minerva patted one of Hermione's hands. "If they had been set by you, he would have been able to recognize it immediately."

"Not to mention how much easier that would have made it to find you."

"Then who could have set those wards?" Hermione asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"We were hoping that you could tell us, or at least give us a place to start." Kingsley said. "It was most likely an American. Severus did mention that those wards were very different from what one might find here. His reports lead us to believe that it is a local magic. But we were really hoping that you could point us in the right direction."

"Miss Granger, do you remember seeing or meeting anyone in particular that could have been the one to set those wards?"

"No, there was no one." Hermione said after a few moments. "My co-workers could not have been more Muggle and they were basically my entire social circle."

"Our best Aurors need to be sent, Minerva." Kingsley sighed and rubbed his eyes. "We need to find any information we can on who set those wards, who had been reinforcing them and the group of death eaters that had brought them down. Who is available?"

"Sally-Anne and Markus MacDougal are available."

"They are back from Hungary?" He asked sharply. "How did their mission go?"

"They will tell us tonight, at the meeting." McGonagall's lips pulled into the thinnest of lines, and Hermione surmised from that that the mysterious mission had not gone well. "Miss Granger, I hope that you are feeling well enough to attend? You Apparated such a long distance only a few hours ago and the display in the kitchen drained you even more."

"I will be in attendance, Professor." Hermione said, her train of thought snagging on the memory of what had happened in the kitchen.

"Don't worry about what happened in the kitchen, Mona." Kingsley chuckled. Had her thoughts been that obvious? "You didn't hurt anyone and that was certainly not unexpected."

"You are a powerful witch, Miss Granger, who has been without her wand for a very long time." McGonagall stated. "It stands to reason that the large amounts of stress that you have been under would make you lose control."

"That reminds me..." Kingsley said as he began patting the folds of his robes, looking for something. He nodded to himself as he found what he was looking for and pulled out a long, thin box. He handed it to Hermione "You might have need of this. We managed to rescue it in the chaos after you left."

There was no question of what the box held and Hermione's breath caught. Her instincts screamed at her to just throw it against the wall and beg the Order to just take her home to Arizona and leave her to the death eaters. She closed her eyes and pushed down the urge, slowly releasing the breath that she had been holding. Minerva and Kingsley excused themselves and Hermione was grateful for the privacy.

It was several long minutes before she was able to find her vaunted Gryffindor courage. Her hand was shaking when she finally lifted the lid and laid eyes upon the object inside the box.

Her wand, eleven and a half inches of vine wood with a dragon heartstring core, lay almost quivering in anticipation of its long lost owners' touch.

"Remember me, do you?" Hermione asked. One corner of her mouth curved upwards. She placed the box on the table and let her hand hover over it.

For a moment she let herself embrace the longing for the normalcy that had been her life nearly fifteen years earlier, long before that dreadful owl winged it's way into her bowl of fruity-o's with her Hogwarts letter.

She had dreamed of the way her life should have been countless times since she had left. She would have had a perfectly normal childhood. From there it would have been attending a perfectly normal, Muggle secondary school. She never would have tasted the sorrows of war. Her parents would still be alive and well, not dead before her eighteenth birthday. She never would have been forced to leave everything behind her and start over in a small Muggle town in an unknown country, miles from her home and her friends, forced to keep her head down, lest her fate be the same as her parents'.

Her fingers lowered to stroke her old friend, the feel of the smooth, worn wood all at once familiar and strange, still reminiscing over what could have been.

She would have married an ordinary - but not perfectly so, nobody's perfect - Muggle man, but not after having made a name for herself in her field. Perhaps they would have met while attending their perfectly ordinary Muggle classes at their perfectly ordinary Muggle College - Cambridge, perhaps? Or Oxford. Perhaps he would have been kind and gentle, with a brilliant mind and a smashing body. Even without the hunky husband, she would have been perfectly happy with that life.

But instead, she sat in the new headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, less than twenty-four hours away from becoming 'Mrs. Severus Snape.'

He was nearly twenty years her senior, uglier than a donkey's ass and more crotchety than Ebenezer Scrooge, Simon Cowell and Yosemite Sam combined.

_But he is brilliant_... _At least he'll be able to stimulate your mind, if not your - _Hermione jerked her hand away from the wand and shook her head to banish those thoughts. She knew that she would have to eventually... be _intimate..._ with _him_... but the less time she spent thinking about that, the better.

"What the Hell am I doing?" Hermione asked as she dropped her head to the table beside the box that held her wand.

"Talking to yourself is one of those telltale signs of insanity,_ Mona._"


	6. The Past That Haunts Him

_Sorry about the wait. College classes have started for me, as well as taking care of my new kitty and working full-time. If it helps though, my next chapter is already finished and will be up next Tuesday. _

_Also, I am still not JKR and I am still very grateful to the greatest beta that ever lived. Jen, I couldn't give you enough cookies._

* * *

_**Chapter Six: The Past That Haunts Him**_

"Talking to yourself is one of those telltale signs of insanity, _Mona."_

Hermione jerked her head up and glared at Snape as he stood, leaning against the doorframe. She chided herself internally for letting him sneak up on her.

"Well, what can I say? Maybe I've finally snapped." Hermione conceded. "After all, I am marrying you, now aren't I? You can't tell me that any sane witch would do that."

"Please tell me how many men are beating down the door to beg for your hand in marriage, _Mona." _Snape flicked at some invisible piece of dust on his robe.

"Fuck you."

"Thank you for the offer, Granger, but I'd really rather not." Snape straightened from his position by the door and sat in an elegant green wingback chair that was only a small distance from the door "I do not plan on taking a woman to bed anytime soon. Especially considering that my only option – unless we want this marriage null-and-void - is you. And may I ask who in their right mind would want to bed a frizzy-haired, buck-toothed, obese know-it-all?"

"Oh, please!" Hermione snapped. "I haven't been buck-toothed since fourth year, my hair isn't used to this climate anymore and I'm not obese! They are called 'curves,' you halfwit. I guess I could understand your confusion though. It must be quite difficult for you; nearly fifty years old and still a virgin?"

"A virgin? Hardly."

"Well, well! Good for you! You found someone willing to get into your dingy white underpants?" Snape's face went red and then almost purple with rage and his knuckles turned white where he was grabbing the chair's armrests. Hermione mentally calculated the distance to her wand and whether she would be able to cast a shield if he were to attack.

Snape pressed to a stand and in two quick strides, he was there beside her. He wrapped his long fingers around her biceps and pulled her from her chair.

"Who told you?" He snapped. Hermione's tongue would not work to respond. He shook her. "Potter told you, didn't he?"

"Tell me what else he told you? Did he tell you all of my dirty little secrets?" He gripped her arms tighter. Hermione's eyes watered as his fingers bit into her arms. He shook her again "Did you laugh together about poor, upside-down Snivelus? Did he tell you -?"

"You're hurting me, Severus! Please stop!" Hermione said, her eyes watering.

Snape froze for a moment, while a look of horror and self-disgust settled onto his features. He released her as if he had been burned. He flexed his hands and he raised them up, examining them in disbelief. He turned and rushed to the door as though the hounds of Hell were at his feet.

"Wait." Hermione said quietly. He heard her and stopped, hand on the doorknob. He didn't turn to face her and Hermione was unsurprised by this. "I'm sorry. Harry didn't tell us anything about your memories. He mentioned that he had taken a swim in your pensieve, but he was very tight-lipped about the whole thing. He made a comment once, see, when Ron was making jokes about McGonagall's love of tartan and whether or not her odd love of it extended to knickers. Harry then made a comment that one of the teachers, at one point in life at least, had worn very dingy briefs. When asked further questions, he got the same tightlipped expression that he wore when asked about the pensieve. I drew my own conclusions from that."

Snape nodded and opened the door, his whole frame radiating tension. Hermione rubbed her arms, certain that there would be bruises tomorrow.

"And Snape, I want you to know that I will not put up with being mistreated in this relationship." Hermione's voice could freeze mercury. "If you touch me in that manner again, I'll have you back in Azkaban so quickly it will make your head spin."

Snape nodded once more without turning to look at her and he stood there a few seconds longer before leaving without another word spoken.

Hermione's legs gave out underneath her once he had gone and she fell gracelessly onto the closest couch. Her thoughts ran circles around the enigma that was Severus Snape.

She wasn't aware of how long she remained in her thoughts. When she finally snapped out of her daze, she was surprised to find that the room was quickly filling with Order Members, some recognizable, others not. She pressed to a stand and went to retrieve her wand from the table.

"Oh, Merlin's wand! You must be Hermione Granger!"

A bright, overly-cheerful voice called out from across the room. A young witch, barely out of Hogwarts, Hermione guessed, came barreling towards her. She smiled a smile so big that it made Hermione wonder why it didn't actually crack her face in two. She continued chattering. "We've all heard so much about you! I don't suppose you remember me? Darlene Claires - of course, it was Darling back then. If it helps you to remember, my clock hand is right there." She pointed at one of the closer clocks. "You helped me reach a book in the library once. No? I was only a first year Hufflepuff when you left. Maxwell! Come look who we've got here!"

The blonde-haired, blue-eyed bubble of energy waved her arm at a young man about the same age with already thinning hair and an expanding waistline.

"Is that Hermione Granger? I heard that they were working on a way for you to get back!" He smiled as he walked over to join the conversation. "How are you? I hope it wasn't too rough of a trip back from Argentina for you, Hermione."

"I was in the States actually - Arizona, to be specific, and no, the trip wasn't bad."

"Oh, now, tell us how it was living without your magic among the muggles! I wish I could have been that brave. But the ministry listed Maxie-poo here as a potential match and we've been together ever since!" The blonde gushed a bit more over her 'handsome' husband and Hermione looked around the room for a rescue. The other Order members avoided her gaze - no help there.

"Now, how did you get back? They haven't told us lower Order members anything, really. Just rumors that you'd be back and well, here you are! It's a Christmas miracle!" Darlene squealed.

"How could it possibly be a Christmas miracle? It's August." Hermione asked, dragging one hand across her face. She never got an answer; Darlene had rushed right into her next question. Hermione stared at her blankly until her husband cut in.

"I don't think she heard the question, Love."

"Oh, goodness gracious! I'm so sorry! I just wanted to know how you made it back. Did the Order find you some cutie-patootie to get married to?"

"Well, I'd hardly call him that." Hermione said slowly. "And I actually prefer to be called Mona now.

"Oh, how quaint! Is that a nickname that the muggles gave you?" Her impossibly wide smile went even wider. "But there you go changing the subject! You sneaky girl! I want to hear about your new man! Who's the lucky guy? Is there any chance we know him? It seems like it's about time that you settle down and start making babies. Tick-tock, right?" The blonde laughed for a few seconds before drawing a deep breath and continuing. "You must be so glad to be back, Hermione. I could never live with American muggles. English ones are bad enough! I'm kidding! But seriously, who is he? Do we know him?"

"Give her his last name and she'll have it guessed in under a minute!" Her annoying laughter joined her husband's for a moment before they looked down at Hermione earnestly.

"His last name is Snape." Hermione said, enjoying the sight of the saccharine grin sliding off of the other woman's face.

"You're marrying Severus Snape?" The young woman had gone pale. "But-but... He _killed_ Dumbledore - in cold blood! He's dangerous, Hermione!"

"Darlene, hush." Maxwell said quietly, his smiling pudgy face had gone serious in the blink of an eye. "You know that he was -"

"I don't trust him." Darlene cut him off. "The others can say that he's a good man, that he has been a spy the entire time, that he murdered Dumbledore on his orders, but I think that is just phooey. You'd have to be a fool to trust Severus Snape!"

"Dumbledore trusted him. There are a good handful of Order members that still trust him." Hermione snapped at her, fists clenching and unclenching down at her sides. "Do you honestly think that a true follower of Voldemort - one of his right hand men, might I add? - would come back to the Order after the alleged betrayal? Do you honestly believe that Severus Snape would be dumb enough to try to pull that off again? Really? Really?"

"Now, now, Hermione!" The dreadful woman was speaking again, unaware of how Hermione's hair was beginning to stand on end. "We're only concerned for you! He really does belong in Azkaban and maybe you're better off if you did just go back to life among the muggles. You're a muggle-born anyways, aren't you, Hermione?"

"Oh, Darlene!" Fred and George Weasley appeared out of nowhere and smiled at her. "How nice it is to see you! Mona really doesn't like strangers, and we're sure that she'd like to be left alone right now."

"Oh, but we aren't strangers!" The blonde continued. George made a gesture to Fred that didn't go unnoticed by Hermione - his hands formed the shape of a bomb exploding - and then he pointed at her. "She helped me find a book once. We're old friends, aren't we, Hermione?"

"You should go tell Kate that story. I'm sure she'd love to hear it." Fred gestured to one of the other women in the room.

"Oh, yes! I should! She's so high and mighty, but I'm the one that got to first talk to Hermione Granger. Oh, and maybe the pair of us can figure out a more suitable match for her! Hermione and Snape, can you even imagine?" She started to walk off, then turned and looked at her hand on the clock. "Oh, goodness, I think this clock must be broken! It says that Maxwell and I are in Mortal Peril, but we're really only standing here talking to our dearest friend, Hermione... Strange, isn't it, Darling?" She asked her husband, pulling his arm as they began to walk away.

"You alright there, Mona?" Fred asked as he studied her. George handed her the box containing her wand. "Take deep breaths and try not to lose control."

"Let's take her out into the hallway." The twins said simultaneously as they each grabbed one of her arms and led her out of the meeting room, down the hallway and into the guest bedroom that she recognized from earlier in the day.

Fred closed the door behind them and George led her over to sit on the bed.

"Deep breaths, Mona. That girl is a true idiot. Lowest level of the Order that one can have, really. But we need all the wands we can get and her husband, on the rare instance when he is not with her, is an excellent duelist and is actually quite intelligent. Calm down and don't think about it. Sorry we couldn't rescue you any sooner."

"Don't worry about me, boys." Hermione forced a smile. "Thank you for rescuing me. You can go back to the Order meeting now, if you want to. It looked like it was going to be starting soon."

"Are you sure you won't explode, Mona?" George said, looking her over suspiciously. "You looked like you were about to lose control again."

"If you feel like you need us, just send your patronus. I'm sure you can still remember how to do that, right?" Fred smiled as Hermione playfully threw a punch at his arm.

"I haven't been gone that long. I'll be fine."

"Oh, we nearly forgot to tell you, Hermione. Gred and I have decided to let you enjoy our entire line of 'marital bliss' products, on the house." George grinned, waggling his eyebrows at her. "Why lie back and think of London when you could use one of our adult daydream charms and see the fireworks?"

"Oi, Forge! You'd best leave her be. Unless you want to explain to Angelina what happened to the guest room? Also, I'm still not entirely convinced that Mona won't turn our _beautiful _Darlene into a bloody spot on the rug in there."

"Would that really be so terrible, now?" George asked as they headed out the door. Fred closed it behind him as he laughed. Hermione listened to their voices fading down the hall before she moved to dig out a pair of her pajamas from her suitcase.


	7. DAMN

_Disclaimer : I looked in the mirror today and didn't see JKR. Just plain ol' regular me._

_This chapter is dedicated to the greatest beta and friend that anyone could ever ask for. It was her birthday recently and I'd like to wish her a late happy birthday. I'd also like to ask for prayers on her behalf. Her family is going through a rough year. We love you, Jenna!_

* * *

_**Chapter Seven: D.A.M.N. **_

"Wake-up, Sleepy head!"

Hermione rolled onto her side and pulled the covers up over her head, ignoring the voice inside her head that was telling her to wake up.

"Mona, wake-up! We've got a lot to do today!" The voice in her head insisted.

"Tonks, pull her covers off." Hermione's eyes snapped open as her foggy brain worked out that the voices urging her into consciousness were _outside_ of her head. Two seconds later she was sitting up, with her pillow tossed in the direction of one of the voices. Tonks stepped out of the way easily. Ginny giggled from where she stood by the doorway.

"A pillow, Mona? Don't you think a wand pointed in my direction would have been a little bit more intimidating?" Tonks said before ripping the bedding away.

"Why would you do that?" Hermione snapped. "And Ginny, why the hell are you two even here?"

"Why are we here? It's your last day of unwedded bliss and we wanted to make sure that you made it an extraordinarily good one."

"Oh, Merlin, please tell me you haven't ordered me a stripper!" Hermione exclaimed in exasperation, her head dropping into her hands.

"I assure you that had we known that you wanted one so badly, Mona, we would have purchased one for you." Ginny taunted her.

"We only wanted to help you get ready for the wedding, Hermi - _Mona_." Tonks said as she pulled Hermione's legs to the side of the bed. "Now come on. Molly has prepared a feast for this morning - eggs, sausages, bacon, bubbles and squeak, tomatoes - A better fry-up than she ever made any of us on our wedding days."

"Then again, none of us were ever gone for eight years before our wedding days." Ginny pointed out. "You'd better be warned, Mona. Mum tends to get a little overbearing when it comes to - Oh, my days! Mona, what happened to your arms?"

Hermione froze mid-stretch and slowly lowered her arms to examine them.

"Fuck." Hermione cursed under her breath as she took in the bruises that littered her upper arms.

"I don't know where these came from." She lied, still inspecting them. She missed the worried glance that passed between the two other women in the room.

"Mona, are you sure?" Tonks asked.

"What? Yeah, I'm fine." Hermione's reply was muffled as she searched through her trunk for the baby-pink robe that had been given to her. She hurriedly thrust her arms into the sleeves and joined Ginny at the door.

"Do you want me to get Snape-?"

"It really isn't any of your business, now is it?" Hermione snapped.

"- to send us some bruise paste? Mum's all out." Ginny fixed Hermione with a curious look. "You don't have to be so snippy. It's only bruise paste. It's not like I was asking you what position you two plan to use in order to conceive your firstborn."

"Now, Ginny!" Tonks scolded as she led the way into the kitchen. "This is the last morning of Mona's singledom! Let's not spoil it with talk of the git she's going to be marrying tonight!"

"Good Morning, girls!" Molly greeted them from her position near the stove. "I hope you're hungry, Mona dear."

"I'll just have toast and coffee, thanks." Hermione said as she sat down at the kitchen table. "I'm not really all that-"

Molly didn't let her finish her refusal before placing a delicious looking plate down on the table in front of her. It was piled high with fried mushrooms and black pudding as well as all of the things that Ginny had promised.

"Well, it would be rude of me, after all of that trouble you've gone through..." Hermione said as she grabbed her fork and dug in.

"I thought you might be that way. It has been to long since you've had a full fry up for breakfast." Molly said knowingly as she dished up plates for the others. "Hurry and finish eating, girls. You have an appointment at Vu's Bridal Boutique's in Cornwall at noon. Hopefully they'll be able to find you a decent dress on such short notice..."

"Mum is determined to find you the perfect dress." Ginny said before lifting a fork of eggs to her lips.

"But there's no telling what kind of white fluffy monstrosity she'll have her eye on this time." Tonks said in a stage whisper. "The last time one of her babies got married, the dress couldn't even fit through the door. It was too wide."

"Oh, hush. Angelina looked divine." Molly's eyes widened. "Don't you think that dress would be lovely on our Mona?"

"Thank you, but I think I'll do without the dress." Hermione said with an air of defiance.

"Without the dress...?" Molly looked at her as though she had grown an extra head.

"There aren't any rules saying that I have to wear a great big white gown. I might as well wear black."

"But there are rules, Mona." Ginny said, chasing her eggs with a drink of orange juice. "There were too many women that did just that for the first two years. The Ministry was appalled to find that so many witches found marriage to be so repulsive. They so want to believe that that law isn't making everyone miserable. Now the dresses have to be preapproved by the Ministry."

"But you'll have no problem finding a dress, my dear." Molly smiled. "You just eat your breakfast and let us take care of everything."

* * *

"Welcome to Vu's Bridal. Do you have an appointment?" The petite witch that stopped them by the door of the little boutique in the Wizard Quarter of Wadebridge, Cornwall asked, condesending smile plastered across her face. Hermione instantly disliked her.

"Yes, we do." Molly smiled in return and pushed Hermione forward. "This is Mona Granger, the blushing bride."

"Interesting." The sales woman said as she pulled out her measuring tape and let it begin twisting itself around Hermione. "Most of our brides are much younger - not to mention thinner. Please, follow me to the fitting room. I'm sure that we'll be able to find you _something._"

"Mona, we'll be over here, if you need us." Ginny smiled reassuringly.

"I'm Angela; I'll be your bridal consultant today." She introduced herself as she led Hermione through the rows of white tulle and satin and into one of the rooms at the back of the store. "When is your wedding?"

"This evening." Hermione said as she took a seat in the little room.

"Oh? So it'll be something off the rack for you then." She summoned a small clipboard.

"Yes." Hermione answered.

"And the budget?"

"I want the cheapest dress in the store." Hermione said, ignoring the look of understanding that crossed the other woman's face.

"It is rather painful, isn't it? But can you imagine the look on your groom's face when he sees you though." Angela gushed, placing her hand on Hermione's. "I think if you were a bit more willing to part with more of your Galleons, it will be worth it. The second marriage is always the best."

"This isn't my second marriage." Hermione removed her hand.

"Oh, I'm sorry! It's just that you're so much older... Have you been living under a rock?" She looked genuinely puzzled. It was the first genuine emotion Hermione had seen on this woman.

"No, I've been in America these last eight years."

"Oh? Well, while you were abroad, things have changed, haven't they?" She made a note on her clipboard. "Why don't you tell me about your groom?"

"He's tall... Very good at potions... I've known him since I was eleven..."

"He sounds like a very decent bloke - you lucky girl! How did you two meet? Was it love at first sight? She squealed excitedly. Her confusion was obvious when Hermione dissolved into laughter.

"I don't think so." Hermione finally managed, wiping a tear from her eye. Angela joined in with an awkward giggle. "He's a complete bastard. If I weren't needed here, I'd be in Arizona still. In love with Snape? Who could love him? And at first sight? Ha! You're hilarious."

"Snape? *Severus* Snape? The man who murdered Albus Dumbledore? The Death Eater?" The younger witch asked, horrified. "You're Hermione Granger, aren't you?"

"I used to be Hermione Granger. Now I go by Mona." Hermione replied, suddenly somber.

"I'm sorry, Hermione, but we absolutely cannot sell you a dress."

"Ex-squeeze me?" Hermione's eyebrows shot up in disbelief.

"You're the only thing keeping that murderer out of prison. There has been more than one article about him in the papers lately." Angela pulled the door of the fitting room open and gestured for her to leave. "We've all been wondering what kind of woman the Ministry would be so willing to release him to. It's such a pity that that woman turned out to be one of the cowards that ran from the marriage law. The Wizarding World doesn't need women like you. Go back to wherever it was that you were hiding."

"There will be other shops that will sell me a dress." Hermione stood, eyes flashing with fury. "I don't need to be treated like this."

"There won't be a dress for you in this country, Hermione. No one will want to see their dress on the bint that helped Severus Snape kept out of Azkaban. That is where that old arsehole belongs."

"Don't call him that, you dirty little bitch." Hermione snarled. "And do not call me Hermione!"

"Time to go!" Ginny turned up at her elbow and began pulling her out of the shop. Tonks and Molly followed them out into the street, looking bewildered.

"Mona, calm down, please! There are other places that we can find you a dress!"

"Did you hear what she said about me? What she said about Snape? How dare she? I'll kick her ass!" Hermione began to pace.

"There has to be somewhere that we can go to find you a dress. We have plenty of time." Ginny said, glaring at a young woman that had just emerged from the boutique.

"We'll try Hogsmeade! They have plenty of Ministry-Approved dresses in that town." Tonks said as she began to lead the little group down to the nearest business with a public link to the floo network.

"Mona, dear, are you coming along? Or shall we try and buy a dress without you?" Molly said as the Weasley women joined her. Hermione, who had been caught in her own thoughts, suddenly stopped her pacing.

"I'm taking this to the Ministry."

"Her- Mona, I don't think that's such a good idea." Ginny said, reaching out to stop her. A loud crack split the morning as Hermione Disapparated.

* * *

"I need to speak to your department head. Immediately." Hermione said as she shoved open the double doors and entered the department's quiet, but heart-plastered, lobby. She glared at the receptionist as she sat behind her desk. A heavy book lay on the desk in front of her. A well-manicured index finger rose, indicating that the woman would be right with her.

"I said I need to speak with the head of your department." Hermione snarled when the other woman went back to her reading.

"Shut up and let me finish this page! Edward is just about to turn her!" Hermione's eyebrows rose to her hair line at her heavy Texan accent.

"You're an American? What are you doing here?"

The receptionist snapped her book closed and gave an exasperated sigh.

"It's clear that I won't be getting any reading done until after I help you. Besides, it turns out he wasn't serious about turning her anyways." She tucked a piece of brown hair that had slipped from its ponytail and tucked the book into one of her desk drawers. "Welcome to the Department of Arranged Marriages and Nuptials. Do you have an appointment?"

"No, I don't, but it's a matter of utmost importance that I speak with-"

"My department head. Yeah, I got that." Jenna cut her off. "Do you really want to talk to that bitch though? Isn't there anything that I can help you with myself? She doesn't like to be disturbed."

Hermione continued to glare until the other woman pressed to a stand and crossed to the other set of doors that read D. U. Marthifeld and stuck her head inside the room.

"Dolores, there's someone here to see you. She's refusing to meet with anyone else."

"Who is she?" Hermione's blood ran cold at the sound of that voice. "Miss Hall, don't just stand there. Fetch her a cup of-"

Hermione watched the other door pull open and Dolores Umbridge, looking especially toad-like, pass through it. The wretched woman stopped midsentence and a wide, menacing smile crossed her lips.

"Hermione Granger." Hermione bristled at the sound of her name. "I was hoping that I'd be seeing you today. Madame Vu herself told me that I might."

"Don't cross me, Umbridge. And don't call me Hermione."

"It's Marthifield, now, actually. Why don't you come into my office, dear?" Umbridge said, picking at a piece of lint that had dared to land on her trademark hideous pink dress. "Miss Hall, dear, please bring our dear Hermione some tea."

"Sure thing, Boss."

A smug smile crossed Umbridge's face as she turned and headed back into her office. Hermione took several deep breaths and followed her in.

"Hermione Granger, I've heard that you've been looking to buy a wedding gown." Umbridge said, indicating that she should sit by a wave of her hand in the direction of the overly cushioned chair across from her desk. Hermione declined with a shake of her head. "Quite frankly, there is nothing that I can do for you."

"The law states that any marriage law bride must be married in a gown that has prior approval of the department of arranged marriages and nuptials. If the bride cannot find an approved dress, then the marriage shall not be considered as valid." Hermione recited the law that she had stopped in the Ministry Library to read. "If I were to bring a gown to you, wouldn't you be able to approve it today?"

"My dear, dear girl, I'm so very sorry." Umbridge's almost giddy tone revealed that she was anything but. "But that isn't the way things work."

"I'll take this to the Wizengamot. Surely, they'll give me an extension until I can find a suitable dress." Hermione's growing fury amused the other woman, who laughed.

"Ahem, ahem. They have already given you the maximum allowed extension, dear. Your husband-to-be begged them for the additional two weeks that you needed to settle your affairs in the Muggle world." Umbridge sat back in her desk. "This is what happens to bad girls and boys, Miss Granger. They wind up in Azkaban and exiled to the Muggle world. That is where you'll be unless you are married by the end of today." Umbridge picked up her pen and began jotting notes on the piece of paper in front of her. "Good day, Miss Granger."

"Good day? Good day?" Hermione's jaw clenched and unclenched. "You won't be getting rid of me so easily, Umbridge."

"I already have." The older woman smiled in self-satisfaction. "And I've also gotten rid of that odious man as well. How pleasant."

"Here's that tea you wanted." The receptionist cut in as she brought turned up at Hermione's side.

"Thank you." Hermione said as she grabbed the pink cup and tossed the contents of it at the woman behind the desk before dropping the cup and storming out of the office.

The receptionists' peals of laughter followed her out into the corridor and Hermione was halfway to the lift by time the receptionist managed to catch up to her.

"Wait!" The receptionist grabbed her arm and swung her into a brief hug. "That was fantastic! I can't tell you how many times I've wanted to do that to that old cow!"

"I've always pictured her as more toad-like, Miss Hall." Hermione said, impatiently looking in the direction of the elevator. "I'm sorry I have to -"

"Please, call me Jenna. Sorry I was so short with you earlier. Have you read the Twilight books? They're gonna be the next big thing, I just know it." Jenna said with a smile.

"I haven't, nor do I intend to." Hermione growled. "Now please get out of my way. I need to find-"

"A gown? Yeah, I heard all that." The tall girl leaned down forward. "I have a solution for you."

"What?" Hermione's eyes widened then narrowed again. "Why would you be willing to help me?"

"Anyone that has the guts to do what you just did in there is alright by me." Jenna grinned. "Umbridge wouldn't tell you this, but if you have a gown from a previous marriage in your family - say, from your Mom's or your Grandma's wedding - they won't be able object to your marriage. There's even precedence, in case that old bat tries something - D.A.M.N vs. Amy Boniface. But you didn't hear it from me!"

"Thank you!" Hermione called as the younger woman ran back up the corridor and disappeared around the corner.

* * *

_Please leave me a review! Have a good day!_


	8. Caricature of Nuptuals

_Hello, dear readers! It took me a while to get this update finished, but the next one will be here sooner, I hope. I can honestly say that this chapter being so late is not entirely my fault - my beta did it! *ducks out of the way of angry mobs*_

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_**Chapter Eight: **__**Caricature of Nuptuals**_

_Unofficially titled "Sixpence in her shoe, Reporters' balls are black and blue."_

"Hermione, where are you?" Ginny asked as she nervously wrung her hands.

"The wedding begins any minute now and she's still not here." Tonks said with a frown as she reached the second floor landing where Ginny stood facing the large window that allowed her a view of Hogwarts' vast lawns.

"I sent my patronus her way almost three hours ago." Ginny said grimly. "She hasn't been seen at the Ministry since this morning and Umbridge's assistant wasn't very helpful."

"You don't think she'd head back to Arizona, do you?"

"I don't know." Ginny said, her eyes once again searching the grounds below.

"Snape hasn't stopped pacing for the last hour and a half." Tonks said, her frown deepening. "Your brothers' were not supposed to let her out of their sight and he couldn't be more furious. If she doesn't turn up soon…."

"Do you think he's worried about what'll happen when the reporters find out?"

"Why would he care? It's not like he's ever given one flying -"

"Oh!" Ginny cut her off with a cry as a familiar figure came into view. "There she is!"

"Thank Merlin!" Tonks said as the two left the window and hurried down to the entrance hall to greet the tardy bride-to-be.

"Where have you been?" Molly was scolding her as they joined McGonagal and a handful of others by the big oak doors. "You aren't even dressed! Did you even find a dress?"

Hermione flashed a triumphant smile and pushed past the group and ducked down the nearest corridor and into an empty classroom that was nearby. Ginny and Tonks were quick to follow.

"We'll have her ready shortly - give us twenty minutes." Tonks reassured them.

"You don't have twenty minutes!" Molly called behind them.

"Mona, where _have_ you been?" Ginny asked the older witch, hands on her hips. Hermione's grin widened.

"Help me change, Gin." She said as she pulled a thick envelope out of her jacket and handed it to the red-faced redhead. "Be careful, it's an antique!"

Ginny opened the envelope and reached inside as Hermione turned away to peel her layers of clothing off. Ginny pulled out a doll-sized white dress and carefully placed it on one of the desks to enlarge it.

"Oh, wow!" Ginny gasped as Tonks lifted the dress and began helping the brunette into it. "It's beautiful, Hermione."

"Don't call me Hermione." Hermione grumbled as Tonks settled the skirt around her feet, pulling the beautifully scalloped train out to rest behind her. "It belonged to my Grandmother Bernice. My mother's cousin Eleanor had it packed up in a storage unit in Borehamwood. Isn't it magnificent?"

Magnificent was a very fitting term for the late Edwardian dress. The opaque batiste fabric hugged Hermione's curves in a very flattering way. The front of it was very simple; flowers were hand-embroidered in with ivory satin thread along the Bateau neckline. Fluttery sleeves brushed Hermione's upper arms as she lifted her brown curls away to reveal a daring open back.

"Hurry up in there!" One of the twins called through the door, cutting Ginny's inspection of the dress short. "The reporters are beginning to-"

"Let's get this travesty on the road." Hermione said, her smile finally dissolving into a grim line. She stepped forward and pulled the door open. George was standing in front of it, dressed to the nines in a tie-dye tuxedo. His twin was standing nearby, adjusting his purple and orange wizarding robes.

"Well, look at you!" Fred grinned as he stepped forward and grabbed one of her hands and settling it in the crook of his arm. "You look far too good to be wasted on our dear professor. Isn't that right, Gred?"

"Too true, Forge." George said as he took her other arm and led her back into the entrance hall. "It's a cryin' shame."

"Oh, hush, you two." Molly said as she hurried forward to fuss over Hermione's hair. "If you'd come sooner, dear, we could have had your hair done in a more ornate style than that frizzy bun you've just pulled it into..."

"It's not like I wanted this big wedding to begin with..." She muttered as Molly brushed at an imaginary streak of dirt on her face.

"We'll see you in there, Mona." The twins let go of her arms and made as if they were going to go find their seats in the great hall.

"Wait!" Hermione said, suddenly. She batted Molly's hand out of the way. "I need someone to walk me down the aisle. Would you two do the honor?"

The twins shared a brief look and a nod before a look of mischief spread slowly over their faces.

"Of course, Milady!"

"It would be our pleasure!" They bowed in perfect synchronization.

"Ginny, Tonks, are you girls ready?" They both nodded, straightening their dresses as well as Hermione's. Molly nodded grimly and waved her wand at the door. The wedding march began and the doors opened wide.

Hermione, looking back later, wouldn't be able to recall who went first down the aisle or how the twins bowed at every other guest on their way down the aisle. Once the bright flashes from the small mob of photographers' cleared, Hermione's eyes could only focus upon the scowling man that waited down at the end of the aisle.

Severus Snape stood with his back ramrod straight. He wore a slightly nicer version of his teaching robes, Hermione noted. His hair was tied back at the nape of his neck and it seemed to be cleaner. His eyes burned with ice cold fury and Hermione avoided his gaze when she arrived at the altar, choosing to continue her study of him instead. The twins each untucked her arms from theirs and gave her hands to Snape.

"Marriage is what brings us..." Hermione's could not focus on the minister's words. Her eyes focused on her shaking hands that were still clasped in Snape's much larger ones. _Why are they shaking?_

Hermione risked a glance up to his face and unreadable black eyes met large fearful brown ones for one long moment before hers dropped to his jawline.

His five o'clock shadow was very prominent, Hermione noticed, and she watched his Adams' apple bob as he spoke, his voice

"Hermione Granger-"

"I go by Mona now." Hermione said absentmindedly, oddly fascinated by the way the corner of Snape's mouth turned up on one side. *Maybe marriage won't be so -*

The audience's laughter filled the Great Hall and Hermione was jerked back into reality. Her face flushed as she realized that she had interrupted the ceremony. Her eyes flew to the minister, who looked at her expectantly.

"I - I do." Hermione stumbled over the words in her embarrassment.

"The rings, please?" The minister nodded to a small redheaded child, easily no older than four, in dressed in a set of dressrobes that looked as though they were older than Hermione. He smiled his biggest smile, proud that he was doing such a good job, as he handed one of the rings to Snape. Hermione fell in love with the little - obviously Weasley - boy instantly.

Snape dropped her right hand and accepted the ring from the small child. Hermione's smile disappeared as her gaze shifted from the smiling boy to the scowling man in front of her. Snape slid the delicate silver band onto the same finger that held the meretricious gold and ruby ring. Hermione didn't miss the subtle shift of his scowl into something deeper.

The little boy tugged on her skirt impatiently before she could interpret the look on Snape's face. When she faced him once more, ring in hand, his face was once again emotionless.

She slid the silver band onto his finger, noticing for the first time that his hands were callosed and rough, where she would have expected them to be smoother, more elegant. He let his hands drop to his sides and hers followed suit. She hid them in the folds of her dress and glanced away.

The minister spoke again, but Hermione's attention was already focused on something else. Umbridge was sitting less than ten feet away, scribbling notes onto clipboard, a smug smile on her face. Her assistant leaned over and whispered something to her, gesturing angrily. The terrible woman replied to her and the assistant slumped back into her seat. The Assistant's eyes met Hermione's and she straightened slightly, giving her a thumbs-up.

"You may now kiss the bride." Hermione turned back to Snape in surprise.

"Kiss?" Hermione squeaked, shocked as Snape leaned down to do just that.

His lips, warm and slightly chapped, met hers and were gone before Hermione had a chance to even prepare herself.

"I now present to you-"

Umbridge stood, her chair falling back with a clatter. Her expression was one of haughty distain and her eyes flashed with hatred. She simply stood for a few moments, glaring, before she pushed her way out of her aisle and stormed out, letting the doors slam shut behind her. Her assistant mouthed what seemed to be either an apology or a profanity as she sunk down into her chair and covered her face.

"Well, as I was saying..." The minister continued, an uncomfortable look crossing his face. "It is my great privilege to present Master and Mrs. Snape."

The announcement was greeted by scattered applause which died off very quickly. Hermione looked at Snape, unsure of what to do next. He merely sneered at her before turning and making his way back up the aisle without her, robes billowing behind him dramatically. She stood there awkwardly for a moment longer before following.

"Severus and Mona, don't you two go running off now!"McGonagal called out as Severus jerked the doors of the Great Hall open. "There is to be a reception out on the grounds."

Hermione caught up with him as he reached the doors of the entrance hall and pulled them open. There was a mob of reporters waiting for them. Severus drew himself up to his full height and donned his most intimidating scowl. Hermione would have laughed as they scrambled out of his path, had she found herself surrounded by the pushy group of reporters.

"Hermione, what's it like being married to the man who killed Dumbledore?" Hermione scowled at the man asking the question as his set off the flash on his camera in her face.

"Why did you come back, Hermione?"

"What is it like coming back to a world that thinks of you as a coward, Hermione?"

"Hermione, how did your name turn up on the list of possible wives for Snape when you have been out of the Wizarding World for eight years?"

"Don't call me Hermione!" She snapped as she tried to push through the group. Several more cameras flashed, effectively blinding her as she continued to look for an escape plan. "No comment!"

"It's true then, that you've changed your name? Our readers'would love to know-"

"She said no comment." Harry was at her side in an instant. He grabbed her wrist and began pulling her out of the crowd.

The reporters moved to follow, only to find themselves at the wrong end of McGonagal's wand. Hermione couldn't interpret the older woman's angry Scottish brogue, but that didn't stop her from smirking as the cameras were jerked out of the reporters hands and the film was torn from its'necessary darkness. With another swish, the dismayed reporters found themselves tied in the now ruined film.

Hermione couldn't help but to laugh at their dismay from over her shoulder as Harry pulled her along. One of the reporters managed to struggle to his feet, only to be hit with a flash of violet sent his way from the direction that Snape had gone in. The reporter crumpled over, the sound of his cursing following them across the lawn.

"What spell was that?" Hermione asked Harry, noticing the way that he winced in empathy, even as he led them further away from the steps.

"You don't want to know." He replied. He stopped as they reached Snape. "Nice wand-work. It's good to see you defending your wife."

"My intentions were not heroic, Potter." Snape sneered at Harry as he ran his hand through his ever messy hair. "I had intended for that jinx to hit you."

"Oh, right. I'll just be going then." Harry paled and his hand twitched reflexively towards his groin before hurrying away in the direction of a large, glittering tent that had been set up on the grounds. "Save me a dance, Mona."

"Really?" Hermione turned to face a now smirking Snape. "You and I both know that you never miss your target. Is it just too hard for you to admit that you did the gentlemanly thing and gave me a hand?"

"Granger, I am not a gentleman." He sneered. "You would have to be delusional to think such."

"And I am not a Granger anymore, Snape." Hermione pointed out to him. "If you want to call me by my new surname, you are more than welcome to do just that."

"You are insufferable."

"I can imagine that you would think so, yes." Hermione replied, her eyes narrowed and her arms crossed. She paused a moment before filling her next question with all the distain that she could muster. "Now, are we going to stand here glaring at each other for the rest of the evening like children, or are you going to escort your new bride to the lovely reception so that she can have some fucking cake?"

"The last thing you need is cake, Granger."

"Snape." Hermione said as he began walking away.

"What?!" He snapped over his shoulder at her. "What more do you want from me, Granger?"

"Snape."

"Insufferable woman!" He turned and stepped back, his features dark with menace. He pulled himself up to his full height. "Would you desist, Granger?!"

"Snape." He towered over her now, but she held her ground.

"Are you impaired? You have my attention, stupid girl!" He snarled, his face further contorting with anger as he brought it within an inch of hers. "If you say–"

"I'm not trying to get your attention, you idiot." Hermione said, wiping a bit of his spittle off of her cheek. "I'm _correcting_you. My surname isn't Granger anymore. I would think that you'd be the first to realize that."

Hermione watched in satisfaction as the rage settled on her new husband's features. She smirked and turned away from him and began making her way to their reception.

* * *

_Coming soon - Their reception and the long anticipated wedding night! *wink wink*_


	9. The Warning

_Disclaimer : Still not mine._

_And all apologies for not posting sooner. My cat was stolen, I was unlawfully evicted and lost all of my possessions, and my Dad died. 2013 is shaping up to be a great year._

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_**Chapter Nine : The Warning**_

Severus Snape was glaring. Many a dunderhead had speculated that it was one of his favorite pastimes. They had been correct. He'd given them detention anyways.

Too many of those same foolish former students were currently crowded under the big, open tent. One or two had dared to approach him to wish him a happy marriage. He'd straightened to his most intimidating height and glared at them in silence until they grew uncomfortable enough to back away and return to their little friends, leaving him free to pursue one of his few simple pleasures.

The Granger chit was the subject of his ire that evening, as she had been all too often lately. His dark eyes rested on her once again, watching from his little piece of solitude as she was cornered by yet another crush of well-wishing sycophants. He had watched the poor girl try to reach the head table and her spot of honor at his side for the better part of an hour, always interrupted just as she came close to food. She looked ravenous. He looked away, bored with her plight.

He swore under breath as Minerva McGonagal caught his eye and gave him a pointed look. He deepened his frown and narrowed his eyes further. If Granger could not extract herself from the crowd, what was it to him? Besides, his voice of reason - or was it the voice of spite? - chimed in, she looks like the last thing she needs is more food.

He turned his attention back to her, noticing, and not for the first time, the curves that she had acquired in America. If that figure had been on any other woman, he would have made the most delicious plans for their wedding night. As such, knowing that the woman in front of him was the obnoxious friend of Potter and far too brainy for her own good made her delightful curves off limits and only served to set him further on edge. The only reasonable thing to do was to insult her until she got rid of the trait that bothered him. She was predictable, if nothing else.

His thoughts were interrupted as Molly Weasley stood, clinking a fork against the side of her champagne glass for silence.

"Attention, please?" Molly smiled as the crowd quieted. "Thank you all for coming tonight. The newlyweds are grateful, I can assure you."

He heard Granger's small noise of disagreement and turned to watch her as she seized the moment and made a beeline for her plate, now cold. She didn't notice the attention being given her as she shoveled food into her mouth. He shot her his most disapproving glare.

"Now that you've all had a moment to eat, we'd like to steal your attention for the cutting of the cake, and not too long afterwards, Hermione and Severus will have their first dance as husband and wife."

"It's Mona now, Mum!" One of those damn Weasley twins corrected her on Hermione's behalf. A few of the guests laughed but most of them didn't, choosing instead to turn their attention to the large wedding cake that was brought forward and set down in the center of the festivities.

Severus drew closer to the cake, examining the edible monstrosity with disgust. No fewer than seven layers of cake towered over even him. Roses crafted from icing covered every available surface. It looked as though a greenhouse had exploded at the precise moment that a fairy tale vomited. There were several excited exclamations from the guests surrounding him, however, leading him to believe that perhaps he was the only one to think so.

"What an ugly cake." Hermione muttered as she came to stand next to him.

"It is, isn't it?" Severus murmured in agreement. He was aware of her surprised gaze raising to his face, though he kept his attention on the hideous cake before him. Minerva came forward on his other side, offering him a rather large knife. He frowned at it.

"You use it to cut the cake, Severus." Molly told him as he took it.

Hermione moved closer, placing her hand over his as he brought it to the cake's top layer.

"Not that layer, Snape." Someone in the group called out and he lifted the knife away.

"The top layer we don't eat yet, Severus." Hermione said quietly. His gaze centered on her face and she hastened to explain. "There are many years of tradition that dictate what happens to that layer. It is supposed to be preserved and eaten by the bride and groom on their first anniversary, or to celebrate birth of their first child, whichever comes first."

Severus rose an eyebrow at that. Granger blushed a very becoming - _Don't think of her like that!_ - shade of red as she realised what she had said.

"I didn't mean it like that!" She insisted, to the amusement of their audience.

Severus rolled his eyes and raised their hands again, satisfaction filling him at the dismayed sounds issued by Molly Weasley and more than a few other busybodied guests as the knife slid through the top layer of cake.

* * *

Hermione was glaring. She had never been one to glare, but she found herself enjoying the pastime more and more as of late. It was the only thing keeping her from storming over to the subject of her ire and - and -

She didn't know what she would do. Severus Snape had humiliated her with one quirk of the eyebrow and a small bit of cake. She had only tried to explain herself to him and he had shoved a morsel of the sugary nightmare into her mouth in order to, as he had put it, - "silence the shrew."

"Bastard." She muttered to herself.

"I don't doubt that." Hermione jumped in surprise and whirled to find Umbridge's assistant at her side. "But he's got that whole tall, pale, mysterious vampyric thing going on. You could do worse."

"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked her. "I thought you'd have followed Umbridge."

"Oh, and miss out on the party? Fat chance." Jenna grinned. "I've been meaning to tell you, it's a fantastic dress. Your husband hasn't been able to keep his eyes off of you."

"Snape?" Hermione laughed, turning her gaze to the man in question. He was glaring at her. "The man _does _like to glare."

"Whatever." Jenna shook her head at Hermione. "Like you didn't see his eyes earlier during that whole cake thing."

Hermione froze, her cheeks heating. Severus had shoved the morsel of cake into her mouth as she had attempted to explain that she hadn't meant that they would be celebrating their firstborn child within the next year. How there had been room in her mouth, she couldn't figure out, considering that she had stuck one foot in there and the other well on its way.

His fingers had lingered upon her lips too long, giving her ample opportunity to lick them free of frosting. Their eyes had met at that moment and Hermione would have done something infinitely more stupid that just suck on his fingers had someone not cleared their throat and demanded that she feed him his bite of cake too.

She had stopped a few inches away from his lips, remembering suddenly how those lips had felt on hers. Severus, tired of waiting, had grabbed her wrist and lifted the cake the rest of the way. If he had been any other man, the moment could have been described as sensual. But he was Severus Snape, so Hermione felt a strange desperation to believe that it was anything else.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Hermione said, snapping herself free of the memory. "I didn't notice anything unusual or extraordinary about his eyes."

"Liar." Jenna said, smug in her conclusion. "It's not important."

"I have to go." Hermione said suddenly. Molly had approached Snape and was gesturing wildly at the dance floor. He was glaring.

"Mona, wait." The younger woman grabbed her arm. "Umbridge is planning something."

"What?" Hermione turned to face her. "What could she possibly do now that we're-"

"Married? Quite a bit, actually." Jenna said, her voice low and urgent. "I don't know what you did to her, but she is out to get you. She is going to take this to the Wizengamot, Hermione. She wants to prove that you aren't powerful enough to be Snape's equal. If that happens, he'll go back to Azkaban and you'd go back to America."

"There are worse things that could happen."

"Don't be an idiot. You-Know-Who will find you if that happens. You aren't safe in America anymore. He's got more than his fair share of followers there already."

"What is that supposed to-?"

"Granger." Hermione hadn't seen Snape approaching until he grabbed her arm, just above her elbow and he began dragging her onto the dance floor.

"Snape, dammit, that was important." Hermione hissed at him as he placed one hand in the small of her back and offered her the other.

"Then let's get this over with, shall we?" He growled at her. Hermione glanced back to where she had been standing. The other witch was nowhere to be seen.

"Fine." Hermione snapped, sliding her hand into his. Her other hand she rested upon his upper arm. The band began to play and her husband began to move them across the dance floor with surprising skill.

"You know how to dance?" Hermione had to struggle to keep the surprise out of her voice.

"Is it really so inconceivable?" He shot back at her. "I'm a man of many talents, Granger."

"It's just a surprise, Snape." Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "I would sooner have expected Gawp to take up needlework before guessing that you would know how to dance, and dance well, to boot."

Snape nodded and silence fell between them as he lead them skillfully across the dance floor.

"I know this song." Hermione said softly as she recognized the melody. "It was playing on the radio the night I lost my -"

"Granger!" He bellowed, startling her into silence. He raised an eyebrow at her. He lowered his voice. "Unless you were planning on ending that sentence with something other than your virginity, please, do not finish it at all."

"Really, Snape?" Hermione pulled away. "Did you really think that I was going to tell you something like that? There was no soundtrack for that disaster."

"Hermione, calm yourself." He said, reaching for her again. "Let's just get this over with and you can pout then."

"Pout? Are you kidding me?" Hermione jerked out of his reach. "First off, it's not Hermione. It's not Granger. It's Mona. I ought to hex your balls off."

"Mona?" George called from somewhere near the bandstand. "You okay?"

"Stay out of this, George!" Hermione snapped, her control slipping fast.

"Mona, you need to listen -"

"The fuck I do!" She jabbed a finger into his chest. "You are an insensitive bastard, Severus Snape, and I am not in the habit of listening to insensitive bastards."

"What did you do, Snape?" Harry came running up, his face thunderous.

"I did nothing, Potter." Snape sneered. "Your mother-in-law's terrible choice of music is to blame. She said she lost something-"

"Not something, you asshat." Hermione spat, her hair crackling with electricity. "My parents."

* * *

_Uh-oh..._

The next chapter will be out soon. It's already on it's way to beta. And I have a solid start on chapter eleven. Please Review!


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